In Dreams
by simileum
Summary: A little drabble that was born after watching Tweener. This is prison and it is changing him. It's even changing his dreams. ML, I guess. Completely G rated though.


Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Prison Break. Fox does.

This was born in my mind right after watching episode 1x09 Tweener.

In Dreams: The Walk

He leans against the fence, at the west side of the yard. Like a large green carpet the yard lies stretched out in front of him. The grass seems much more luscious and greener than usual.

It's still wet from dew. Somehow he can feel it even though he's wearing shoes.

No sound is to be heard. No inmates chatting. No guards. Just his PI gang, still clad in their blue overalls, sledgehammers in their hands. He can feel their eyes on him, focused on him from the other side of field: waiting, expecting him to make a decision for them.

"Come", he whispers and they immediately get into motion, even though there is no way they could have heard him.

He feels a cold shiver run down his spine. He squeezes his eyes shut and wills them away.

"Stop."

But when he opens his eyes again, they are still there. They have halted and still they stare at him.

He bites his cheeks and sweat is starting to pearl on his forehead. This is not what he wanted, but at the same time he knows he can't leave them standing there. Not even Sucre, whom he just met, not even Abruzzi who killed two people, maybe more, not even T-Bag, whom he hates. But does he truly want them there?

"Come.", he calls upon them again.

Only this time, it's only Lincoln's familiar frame that disentangles itself from the humongous mass of dark eyes and dark blue shirts and commences towards him. He tries to fight the sense of relief rising in his stomach, still battling with the encumbering sense of dread he can't seem to shake.

"Stop.", he shouts and Lincoln jerks to a sudden halt, never taking his eyes off Michael.

"Walk." – "Left." – "Right." – "Turn." – "Stop."

He walks perfectly, like a puppet, the look of trust never once leaving his eyes. Absolute faith, absolute power. Michael shivers.

He got his first taste of this when he took the tire iron to T-Bag's kneecap. The exhilarating feeling to see the fear in T-Bag's eyes. The knowledge that he had all their lives in his hands and that nobody would stop him, if he took T-Bag apart right in front of their eyes.

This is prison and it is changing him.

Michael never intended to do anything other than flying below the radar. Something that he has been doing all his life. He tried to hide his intelligence, tried to hide his differentness. And now, he's been thrust into a situation where it's plain for everyone to see. All their eyes on him, all their faith on him. They honour his position, they trust his words and they obey his orders.

Is he using or abusing them? Will he fail them?

Honour – trust – obey. Absolute faith and absolute power.

"Walk." – "Left." – "Right." – "Turn."

At each new order, there is a short pause, a tiny twitch in Lincoln's shoulders before he reacts, like he is fighting this, deep down. But in here, Michael is all powerful and Lincoln can not fight him.

"Forward." – "Turn." – "Stop." – "Turn."

He lures his brother towards him, mesmerized by the fall of his steps. Perfect, like a puppet, it sends a tiny jolt through Michael's body, every time his brother follows his command. Deep down it surprises him anew, time and time again. All his life, he has only been in control of himself. A hard fought right he won through countless battles with the noise inside his head. This is different, this is something he has never known before.

People aren't like clean and simple like nuts and bolts. They don't fit themselves into their designated forms without resistance. They do not follow laws and rules the way numbers do. The margin of error is always there. They are not reliable, because they cannot be calculated.

This is a close as you can get.

For this moment alone, his brother belongs to him, he cannot run, he cannot turn his back. He walks for Michael, just the way Michael wants him to.


End file.
